


How the Book Came to Be

by Septembre_Rain (Zyrielle)



Series: The Dad Book [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cor Needs A Hug, Cor is a little shit, How Do I Tag, Not Shippy, Other, Regis is talented, Young Clarus Amicitia, Young Cor Leonis, Young Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII, everyone is a sap, everyone is cor's dad, everyone loves cor, no ships, or at least tries to, they don't even realize they're doing it, they write a book, young cid sophiar, young weskham armaugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 02:56:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Septembre_Rain
Summary: So as an attempt to keep Cor out of trouble, the Dadbros write him a book.A story of how and why the book came to be.Cor is a troublemaker and blatantly misuses it.Poor Clarus needs a break.Cid only laughs.Why does Weskham have this information?Regis is talented but useless.





	How the Book Came to Be

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to read a fic of the dads when they were younger, but I was drowning in dad fics and so this monstrosity was born. I love all my ffxv dads. What are they called anyways? Choco dads? Bro dads? Idk.
> 
> Not beta'd-but I tried!

 

He was never supposed to take "it". This wasn't part of the mission.

 

There were no training simulations, contingency plans, or anything resembling this situation under the gods forsaken manual that Clarus created that he deemed necessary due to all the ridiculous shenanigans that Cor got himself into.

It was appropriately titled "The Boy Who Did-But Shouldn’t Have” and right below it in smaller text, “Things Cor Should Have Done Instead kupo!” and right beside it, a pink faced Moogle with a conspiratorial wink. It had the uncanny ability to trigger his volatile temper, and it definitely didn’t help that the said Moogle was designed to look like the Shield. Cor would admit it was cute if he wasn’t pissed at it and more often than not wished it didn’t exist.

He felt like laughing as he pulled the book from the armiger. His fingers staining the pages with soot and blood as he frantically turned the pages, the familiar feeling keep the hysteria that was threatening to overwhelm him at bay. The book had saved him more times that he could count. He prayed to the gods above that it would save him-no them again, that this time would be no different.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Clarus and Wesk had written it, so of course it was ‘a few pages’ thick. It was a manual, kind of like a 'how to survive in the wildernesses for dummies' kind of book.

It contained all the crazy situations he had been in, plus a ton of others that understandably, given Cor’s winning personality, would predictably find himself in-and he did, multiple times, and others that were simply to ridiculous to imagine. Cor, if anything was always up to the challenge.

Of course, given that the book was written by two men who had no idea of how to write a book, it was as readable and interesting as a stack of bricks. Informative and educational it may be, no way could they get a hormonal teenage firecracker itching to prove himself to read it.

 

“What is this Behemoth piece of shi-“ you could practically hear the snarl in Cor’s voice.

“Language Leonis.” Clarus snapped, trying to zen his own temper.

“Cursing is tackled on page six, if you will young lad,” Weskham said, ever calm and patient. 

Cor promptly turned it to ashes after treading the first few pages, no more than 5 minutes after it was handed to him. He then moodily stormed down the hall, muttering about old meddling coots.

 

 

Thankfully they had kept a draft. Regis and Cid got a hold of it and unanimously agreed that it needed, well, more. 

"It needs pictures Clarus!" 

"No it doesn't. Everything is sufficiently self explanatory."

"Painfully so."

"The crownsguard and kingsglaive training manuals are written in the same way-"

"Nobody reads those manuals Clarus."

"I'm the king and I've never read one of those manuals. I don't think my father has either."

"Ifrit's fiery balls. It's a miracle that the Citadel still stands to this day!"

"The trainees are required to read it as punishment, so its not a lost cause."

"This is as interesting as a dictionary. You won't get the kid to read this."

"and YOU'RE an expert on kids?"

"Actually-"

*collective sighs and exasperated groans*

"Truth be told, he's the only one with a son-who as far as I know still lives. He must be doing something right."

"I'm sure Cid's wife is the only reason they're both alive honestly."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. You'd all be dead if it wasn't for me."

"How old is your son?"

"Mid is seven."

"…That's not too far from seventeen."

"Six above, are you serious?"

"Maybe the reason why he's acting out is because he's never been around people watching out for him like we do."

"Like a family?"

They were silent for a moment.

"Kid had a shit childhood."

"That doesn't excuse-"

"He's just a kid Clarus. Go easy on him."

"Wesk, I never took you for a mother hen type."

"I make your meals Clarus, and I know where you sleep."

"You wouldn't dare-"

"Drop it you two."

"Apologies your Majesty."

"We're trying to keep the kid out of trouble, not start a brawl."

"But really, I wouldn't touch that book if it wasn't a matter of national security."

"It very well may be or turn in to an international incident in the near future."

"All I'm saying is it needs some color."

"You can't hate something if it's cute right?"

"Like Chocobos?"

"Nobody hates Chocobos."

"Only monsters do."

"Well, Mid likes Moogles." Cid quips, trying to be helpful.

"Kittens too. Everyone likes kittens. You'd have to be evil not to like them."

"Alright fine." Clarus rubs a hand on his tired face, giving up.

"Cid and I will take care of it." Regis volunteers.

"Your Majesty is surprisingly enthusiastic about this." said Weskham, ever the skeptic.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'd do anything for all of you. Let me do this for our youngest member." Regis grins a little too widely.

"Er yeah. Alright leave it to us… You sure about this Reggie?" Cid asks, looking unsure.

Regis elbows him in the ribs. "Yeah we'll be fine."

He snatches the copy from Clarus' hands and drags a protesting Cid down the hall to his study.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A spanking new copy of the book was re-introduced to Cor as he was sitting in the Marshal's office, awaiting disciplinary actions for brawling with a senior crownsguard. Cor got out of it with a black eye, a broken nose, a split lip and a slight limp.

The other guy however, was hospitalized and would be wearing a cast for at least six weeks. Cor would not be getting out of this mess so easily.

 

Ares, the current Marshal, walked in with a displeased scowl. He saw Cor waiting in his office and let out a sound that was half groan, half growl, and 100% done with this shit.

 

"Leonis."

Cor shoots up from his seat despite his body protesting the effort, standing on attention.

"Talk."

"Nothing much to say sir."

"Indulge me."

"I was just there, doing my routine in the training room, when Brutus and his team of posies came and picked a fight."

"You threw the first punch Leonis."

"Well Brutus was running his mouth a mile a minute, and I decided to shut it for him."

Ares growls again.

"You know better than to blow up every time someone insults you."

Cor clenched his teeth. "It wasn't me they were badmouthing, sir."

"Oh? Then please enlighten me. Who's honor were you defending, in who's name were those punches served?"

It was barely a whisper, but if he hadn't been listening for it, he would have missed it.

"Mors."

"Speak up soldier."

Cor's shoulders began to shake slightly and his face was starting to turn red as he scrunched it up. His eyes were bright and his face was contorted, as if he was trying to prevent a sneeze.

"No."

"Come again soldier?" Ares' voice was dangerously low and calm.

"I said NO sir." Cor was now facing him, all defiance and spite.

"You tell me I should know better. But where the hell does he get off badmouthing me? Am I just expected to take all that like a bitch? Well I did! Apparently that wasn't enough for him. He said Mors should have left me in a dumpster and deserved the ending he got. Then started talking about Wesk and Cid, saying Regis was out of his mind for choosing 'us'. He said a lot more shit about Clarus. I couldn't just-" Cor was heaving a bit now, tears and snot flowing freely.

The Marshal deflates. Well shit. Brutus was known to run his mouth and Cor was anything but a liar. Mors might not have been the most popular royal, and never will be. However he had his redeeming moments, and one of them was saving Cor. Understandably, Cor would hold the late king on a pedestal no matter what. "Alright that's enough." He tells the boy.

Ares sighed again. He hated dealing with tears. This was why he didn't handle trainees who were still in their teens and brimming with hormones and feelings. Cor unfortunately, was now a full fledged Crownsguard and Regis' personal bodyguard at 17.

 

Whatever mood the room had deteriorated to was suddenly interrupted by a light but hurried knocking on the door.

 

"I'm busy with something. Unless it's an emergency, you'll have to come back later."

There was a brief pause and frantic whispering outside.

"Apologies for the interruption Marshal, but I must insist on seeing you this instant." Regis' voice came clear and firm from the other side of the door.

Ares shoots a questioning look at Cor, who shakes his head. The boy choked back sobs and was miserably wiping his face on his sleeves when Ares threw him a box of tissues from his desk.

"I am with company you Majesty-"

"I am well aware Marshall."

"He isn't really in any condition to see anyone at the moment."

More frantic whispering and a few curses could be heard from outside.

"All the more reason for us to interrupt I'm afraid."

Ares glares at the door, seeing the shadow two pairs of feet standing outside his office. "Clarus, don't the both of you have royal duties to attend to?"

Clarus groans audibly from outside.

"We have no more meetings for tonight Marshal. Wesk is finishing up for today." The last part was said sulkily. That only meant that the young king had shirked his duties last minute and dumped them all for Wesk to handle.

 

Ares looks to Cor again, who this time is a bit more composed and snot free aside from the occasional sniffles. The boy just shrugs this time. Ares sighs again. Well, it's not like he can tell the king to go away if he has his mind set on barging in.

"Come on in."

The door opens slowly. Regis enters first, followed by Clarus, who silently closes the door behind him. Both of them are standing a little too stiffly to be comfortable as they walk over to the Marshal and the youngest crownsguard.

 

"Marshal." Regis nods toward him stiffly.

"Your Majesty." Ares bows slightly, not any less intimidating, even in front of his king.

It had been years since Ares himself welcomed the young king (prince back then) and his shield into the training room, both of them no more than the tender age of ten. He whipped them both into shape and despite both of them now being the current king and shield of the entire kingdom, both still held a healthy amount of respect and a not so healthy amount of fear for the man in front of them.

Times like these, Ares still saw them as gangly teenagers who bit off more than they could chew but would die first rather than admit it. Oh yes, trouble was their middle name. If anything, they invented it, and they were here for Cor. What did they say about birds of the same feather? He should have seen this coming a mile away. He could feel a headache coming on.

"I thank you for your time and dedication to your duties Marshal. Let me take care of this one."

Ares raised an eyebrow. Clarus coughed. Regis continued.

"Yep. He's one of mine. I should take responsibility." Regis was putting up a brave front. It was almost impressive. Cor's face reddened a bit more.

Ares drawls, unconvinced. "Are you sure about this? You aren't doing him any favors by swooping in to save his ass."

"Trust me Ares, I'm not saving him, and he won't be getting off easy." Regis sweeps his eyes over Cor, meeting his eyes briefly before facing the Marshal's again.

The King and the Marshal have a bit of a stare off as Clarus gulps in the background.

Cor blows his nose into a piece of folded tissue, effectively breaking Regis' concentration.

It is Ares, however, who relents, arms up in surrender. "Alright. Take him. But mark my words, if anything happens again, all three of you are going to be subject to the same disciplinary actions."

Clarus shudders visibly.

Regis gulps audibly then sticks out a hand. "Deal."

Oh yes, they definitely are still the same boys from all those years ago, fancy titles or not.

 

Ares smirks and takes his hand, shaking it firmly. He then turns to Cor.

"Leonis." Cor stiffens, back ramrod straight.

Ares then turns to the two other 'adults' in the room, and tilts his head in farewell.

"Clarus. Your Majesty. He's your responsibility now." The last part sounded like a warning if anything else. He stretches and walks out of is office, closing the door with an ominous 'thud'.

 

Clarus collapses onto a nearby lounge. "Oh by the Six!" he exhales loudly.

Regis snickers, although obviously still shaken. "I told you to trust me, ye of little faith!"

The king looks at Clarus, then Cor, puffs out his chest and with a shakey smile proudly declares, "Well we showed him, didn't we?"

Clarus cracks first, dissolving into throaty laughs as Regis joins him in releasing the nervous energy in the room.

Cor simply glares at them, spirits lifted but not entirely sure he'd rather be receiving his punishment from these two. He sullenly looks at the floor.

Both Regis and Clarus turn to him. "As for you." Cor winces.

Regis walks up to him and places both hands on the young crownsguard's shoulders. Cor whimpers. For all his spunk, bravado, and 'leap before you think' attitude, Cor was docile in front of his liege. Clarus and Wesk thought it was cute. Cid called it a man-crush. Screw Cid-and all of them too, but he did get into trouble 'defending their honor' as Ares put it so screw them all. Well, except the king.

 

"You did good." Regis tells him solemnly.

"Reggie, I don't think we should be encouraging this behavio-"

"Oh shut it Clarus. You know better than anyone that we've all been itching to give Brutus a good ass whooping."

Cor rasps "Well why didn't you?"

Clarus' mouth twists in distaste. "Well, he never had the guts to say anything to our faces, and he's been especially bitter since you got chosen to be part his Majesty's personal retinue when he was considered a primary candidate for the position."

"But gods do we all hate him." Regis rolls his eyes.

"So that's why he's been picking on me." Cor said.

Clarus gives him a shallow smile. "Well thanks to you kid, he finally got what was coming to him."

Cor looks at them hopefully. "Does this mean I'm off the hook?"

Clarus sputters "Most definitely not young man!" The shield was using his 'trainee voice'. Cor resumes glaring at him.

Regis clears his throat, obviously trying to mean business. "Cor, we are proud of what you did-well I am at least." he quips before Clarus could voice his protest.

"If that coward had dared to say anything like that anywhere near Clarus, Wesk, or Cid, any of them would have run a sword through him, though they may say otherwise. Shut it Clarus-you know you would."

Clarus just sputters, then finally says, “While I strongly detest needless violence, defending a friend is something I can never disapprove of. Most especially since I am one of those you defended. So thank you.” His tone was fond. Clarus actually looked soft. Who would have thought.

Cor huffs, so they had been listening at the door before they interrupted.

"But you have to learn how to pick your fights. You were lucky to get away with minimal damage on that pretty face of yours, prodigy or not."

Cor at least had the decency to blush, though his face was determined not to show any further signs of embarrassment.

 

"Clarus." In the shield's hands, a package materializes in a flash of blue. He hands it to the king. Regis in turn hands it to Cor.

 

"You are required to read this-I am ordering you to do so. Disobeying it is equivalent to insubordination and therefore treason." Regis face is a stony mask as he says this.

 

Puzzled, Cor opens the wrapper. A groan escapes his throat as he takes in the title, eyes roving over the colorful hardbound cover, caricatures and all. He chucks it out the window, only for the book to come flying back like a boomerang and hit him in the face.

 

"Yeah, we spelled it to do that. It's fireproof too." Clarus says proudly.

"What in the seven hells is this?!" Cor roars, cradling his already tender face in his hands.

"That is the product of Wesk and Clarus' genius minds, coupled with creative spellwork on my part and Cid's designs. It's our greatest work." Regis says proudly.

"That's incredibly sad your Majesty." Clarus sighs.

Cor growls and opens the cursed book. It starts with a dedication.

 

 

 

The Boy Who Did-But Shouldn’t Have

Things Cor Should Have Done Instead!

 

 

For Cor Leonis

 

 

Youngest Crownsguard in History

Resident Hothead and Troublemaker

King Regis' Favorite Bodyguard

Beloved Brother

  

 

This is for you kid

 

 

 

Cor couldn't stop the indignant warmth that filled his chest, or the wetness that filled his eyes.

"With all due respect, you are all a bunch of sappy dorks."

 

Clarus and Regis were watching Cor's reaction silently. Regis chuckled. "I know right? But you went ahead and defended us anyway so we love you too."

 

Cor closes the book and notices a new line on the cover that said "Completion rate: 0.02%"

"What the actual fuc-"

 

"Ah yes, I needed to make sure you were actually reading it. Clarus' idea by the way."

"Ugh."

"And you're suspended for three weeks."

"I expected that."

"During which you are expected to finish reading this book."

"Is that all?"

"You are banned from using the training rooms and the gym during the suspension."

"What the else am I supposed to do then?" Cor grits.

"Anger management sessions, as well as other recreational classes."

"Anger management?! And what the fuck kind of 'recreational classes?" Cor's voice hikes up several notches.

 

"Oh you know, knitting, baking, some yoga, meditation, and maybe some and pottery!"

"We have all this?"

"Of course! We have very talented glaives and guards, even the council members have joined in. It's gotten very positive reviews as a positive way to release work related stress. Plus it's a good place for everyone in the citadel to meet each other."

"I didn't know we were so wholesome."

"Of course we are. We aren't just some boring government who exist for the sake of plot."

"…Yeah okay."

"I will be checking on your progress Cor."

"Yes your Majesty."

"Make us proud Cor."

Cor shoots him a rude hand gesture.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

They barely see Cor for the next three weeks. They did however receive the fruits of his labor. There were several angry looking cakes that seemed to be bleeding custard and fudge. They tasted very good. The handler of the class had a few words about him

"His presentation could use improvement, but does well in the more physical aspects of the class. He insisted to knead and whisk everything by hand even though we had mixers. He scared everyone at first, but showed great improvement. We'd love to have him back."

 

There were very aggressively knitted scarves. "We struggled a bit in getting Mr. Leonis to join the activity, but he turned out to be the most determined and perseverant knitter we have ever seen! He gave us all mittens! None of them fit, but we all appreciated the sentiment. He's welcome to join us anytime!"

 

 

…And a sad vase that looked like it had been stabbed several times over. It was very avant-garde, to say the least.

"It is a crime that you have withheld such a tortured soul from the arts. Such passion! Such expression! Such violent execution! You must return him to us!"

 

 

And finally, "Mr. Leonis struggles with meditating. His snoring disturbs the other members. In Yoga however, Mr. Leonis is welcome to teach the class. He created a new program for us. It is rather aggressive and leaves us sore, but it definitely helps us release our negative energies! Its so effective!"

 

 

"Well, you certainly don't do things in halves, do you?" 

"An admirable trait, most certainly."

"They all love you Cor."

"I am never returning to that part of the Citadel again."

"You're very popular."

"I never want to hear another word of this."

"I heard that Cor here's bein' courted by some vultures."

"Oh the matchmakers?"

"More like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water."

"Why do they even want me?'

"You're part of the king's inner circle, baby brother. So you better watch yourself."

Cor gets flustered by the nickname. "I'll just steer clear of them. I should be alright."

Weskham looks at Cor skeptically. "What about social events?'

"What do you mean?"

"You can't just suddenly exit the room or the conversation when you want to avoid someone or something. That requires tact."

Cor's eyes narrow. "What are you implying?"

"Alright Cor, pretend that I'm Council member Amadeus." Clarus groans. Weskham clears his throat.

"Mr. Leonis! You should come join us for dinner sometime. My wife is a big fan of yours. My daughter is just as excited to meet 'The Immortal'. You're what 18 right? She's just around your age! She's a beauty, that one. I'm sure you'll get along! Otherwise, I have other younger duaghters. Eh?" Weskham says in a boisterously loud voice and winks at him the only way greasy old men could, just like the actual councilman himself.

 

Cor stammers. "That is um, I-I'm afraid I'm quite busy. I should go check on the glaives. They require my assistance."

 

"Oh nonsense my boy. The glaives are fine. And don't you have Sunday evenings off? I'll make sure his highness gives you one. You'll have to join us then!"

 

"I'm sorry but I don’t want to?" Cor looks at them wide-eyed, asking for help.

Clarus looks at him with a deadpan expression.

Weskham sighs.

"You know what, you can stick your fancy dinner up your-"

Regis laughs from his desk and Cid guffaws from the corner.

"I don't know how to handle this." Cor pouts.

"Ya think?" Cid continues laughing from the corner.

 

"I've been meaning to try something." Weskham says thoughtfully. "Take out the manual Cor."

Cor does as he's told.

"Go to the table of contents and ask it a question."

Cor sighs opens the book and says exasperatedly "How do I tell Amadeus to shut up?"

Four beeps go off in different parts of the room.

Cid, Regis, Clarus and Weskham check their phones. They all begin typing.

The book in Cor's hands suddenly flips its own pages over, settling on a blank page before he can ask what's happening. His question as well as four different responses appear on the page.

 

**"How do I tell Amadeus to shut up?"**

"Punch him. I'll pardon you."

"Apologize, and tell him it would be inappropriate to make such insinuations to someone your age. Then steer the conversation towards Amadeus' last addition to his art collection. He's an incredible ponce for praise."

"Excuse yourself and tell him you have a training session with the Shield. I'll back you up."

"Pour your drink over your suit and excuse yourself for the rest of the evening. It works I promise ya."

 

Cor tears his eyes away from the book, to see four smug faces looking back at him. Gods above he needed to punch something right now.

"What the heck is this?"

"I can see it worked Regis." Weskham says proudly.

"Of course it works. These magic hands can do anything! I made sure of it." Regis boasts.

"Why do we even need this?" Cor asks, flabbergasted.

"I tell ya, these three have too much time on their hands." Cid snickers.

"We thought it would be useful in case the use of a phone might not be possible." Clarus says. Cor believes he's the only adult sometimes.

"And you thought using this monstrosity of a book would be more discreet?"

"Think of 'away' missions, or in situations or places where phone lines might not be secure or services are unavailable." Weskham says.

"Am I the only one with access to this book?" Cor is liking this book less and less.

"Nah kid, we all do. And in case communication becomes an issue, any one of us can use it." Cid says sympathetically.

"Ah godsfuckingdamnit."

 

"Language Cor."

"Watch your words kid."

"Swear Jar!"

"We raised you better than this young man."

 

Cor stared at all of them like they each had grown six heads. He stomps out of the room without another word, book in under his arm.

 

"Well, I think that went well."

"He's gonna try to burn it again, isn't he?"

"Kid tried with a firaga last time. He knows it won't work."

"Are we keeping a tally on this?"

"Yep. The book records it. So far he's tried nine times since we've given it to him."

"Another spell?"

"Yep."

"You really have talent for the most useless things."

"I know right? I'm so awesome."

"That's not something you should be proud of."

"Oh shut it Clarus and let me enjoy things."

"But really, your Majesty, you could be doing so much greater things."

"Well, this is what matters for now."

"Aw, you're such a sap for that kid."

"So are all of you old shits."

"Well, now we know who he picks up his language from."

 

Their phone notifications go off in quick succession once again.

 

**"How do I off the current king and his retinue of old meddling cows?"**

 

"You'd be offing yourself as well ya doofus."

"I am increasing your training hours by two hours daily."

"I can actually give you several plans with contingencies in place to make this happen."

"I am pretty sure this counts as treason but I'm cool with it if you do it with fireworks."

 

"We love you too."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cor's fingers stained the dog-eared pages black and brown. He still hadn't found the answers he was looking for. He went through some old pages to ground himself, to summon calm from places within him that Weskham and Cid were sure existed but he wasn't convinced. His eyes skimmed over a page he's read so may times before that he pretty much knew it by heart.

 

There was a caricature of a hammer with sharp eyes and wore a cap that suspiciously looked like Cid’s that read out or gave these “hypothetical” scenarios. Under each ridiculous scenario, a fluffy brown Chocobo with braids on its head and a monocle on his left eye gave a bulleted list of things he should have done, with the best options listed first. After each scenario and “suggested” courses of action was a “gentle reminder kupo!” Moogle Clarus was there again mildly threatening him what would happen if he were to “punch and snark his way out of every situation like he always did kupo!” Anyone who knew the Shield knew that Clarus and the words ‘mild & gentle’ should never be used in the same sentence. Then there was a cat, regal, slender and black, it also had a telltale beard and blue eyes. The royally obnoxious cat would pop up every few pages cheering him on- “I believe in you meow!”, “you can do it meow!”, “you’re the best meow!”, “you know better than to think with your fists meow. It was so obvious who was who. It was ridiculous and endearing at the same time.

 

Cor felt like laughing his head off every time he saw these caricatures. It was painful how much he wished they were all together now, to tell him what to do. But it had been several years since they sat down in a room together. He'd give anything to have one of those sessions again, even if he had to cause some international incident to get them back together. The warm bundle in his arms began to fidget and whimper, almost causing him to drop the book. Watery cornflower blue eyes looked up at him, Cor felt his heart take a nosedive for the umpteenth time that night.

 

"Look at the book kid. Babies like pretty pictures like this right?"

The baby blubbered, chubby hands that were once in his mouth now painting the page with spit. Cor grimaced at the wet page. Oh well, this counts as an international incident, right? Might as well light a fire under his old comrades' butts while he was at it. He turns to the table of contents. This should still work. This was the exact reason this book was created with the additional features. The mess that would come afterwards would be an additional bonus.

 

Oh he could already imagine all the ways they were going to kill him.

 

He actually looked forward to it.

 

**"How do I take care of a stolen baby?"**

**Author's Note:**

> Le gasp! Oh how will Cor survive?
> 
> lulz


End file.
